Ame no Murakumo ga Miteru Side Stories
by DezoPenguin
Summary: Exactly what it says on the title, a collection of short stories set in my AmeMite setting too long to be considered omake.
1. You Gotta Have Priorities

_A/N: This collection is just what it sounds like, a random assortment of side stories for my "Ame no Murakumo ga Miteru" universe of _Kannazuki no Miko_ fanfiction, things that aren't part of the main sequence of novellas but are complete stories, not humorous omakes (those, in turn, would wind up in the "Omake of the Godless Month" collection). It was my friend and honorary little sister Fuyu no Sora, definitely AmeMite's biggest fan, who suggested that I do something like this, so it seems appropriate that this fic be about a pair of siblings._

~X X X~

She wore white, did the tall, slim woman as she walked into the chaos of the Tokyo nightclub. She was handsome, rather than pretty, almost androgynous in her appearance rather than sexy or girlishly cute, and the effect of makeup lightly applied only emphasized that rather than distinguished her sex. Her ankle-length coat was buttoned from neck to waist, then flared open to reveal trousers and boots. She made no move to pay the cover charge, and the bouncer made no move to take it from her, even flinching away from the gaze of this stranger.

She thought it was only fair. After all, she wasn't there to drink, dance, or socialize, only for a business meeting that she hadn't chosen the venue for.

Inside the club, she found herself swallowed up as if plunging into an ocean of sound. Screaming, growled vocals about raiders dying for the glory of Odin shifted to a sorrowful, almost sobbing keyboard melody that mourned the bleak future when those fierce warriors would make their last stand on the plain of Vigrid. The woman had no interest in the music or the imagery, but the song by Viking metal band Hrist Valkyrie was one she knew well from the days before she'd moved to Tokyo and it made a nostalgic pang tug at her heart in accordance with the mood of the music.

The crowd in the nightclub, like the bouncer, gave the woman in white a wide berth. While her mint-green hair fit in with the atmosphere, the dominant color around her was black, broken up by blues, greens, reds, and pinks of neon brightness. Against that background, she stood out like a brilliant star, and like a star no one wanted to come too close lest they be burned.

She approved of and appreciated the attitude. It made it easier for her to work.

Her gaze flicked dismissively over the crowd from behind the thick lenses of her square-framed, silver-rimmed glasses. The one she was here to meet wouldn't be out among the general mass of celebrants. He would hold himself aloof, not even at a table but...yes, there. She had spotted the entrances to the private rooms.

Without hesitation, she crossed the club floor. Bodies reeled out of her way, on occasion colliding with others in their haste to remove themselves from her path. When she reached her goal, another bouncer stepped forward to bar her way, taking his job more seriously than did the one at the door. He was built broadly in the torso and narrow-hipped; obviously he worked with weights and was proud of the effect it caused since the black T-shirt he wore with the club's name on the front was a size too small, stretched across and molded to every plane and curve of his musculature.

The woman in white did not begrudge his presence. It would save her time and trouble.

"Private," he growled. His voice was swallowed by the music, the movement of his lips more informative than sound.

"Matou," she said, standing barely an inch away.

"I told you, it's private. Now—" He broke off as he started to lean in, use his size and weight to intimidate her, and felt the first sting of pain. His eyes dropped, looking beneath them, and saw the glints of light reflecting from the knife-blade in her palm, the needle-thin tip of which was pressed against his groin. "Room three," he finished quite differently than he had intended.

The bouncer stepped aside to let the woman in white pass. She flicked one quick glance in his direction as she passed him, making sure that he wasn't going to try anything foolish like attempt to grab her once her back was turned and her knife wasn't intimately associated with his privates. It was always so messy to have to provide object lessons to people who weren't really part of her job.

She stopped outside the correct door. It wasn't even locked; Matou Daigo was there to party, not do business. He slouched back on the padded leather sofa, half-reclining on a bottle-blonde in a red dress while a buxom girl straddled his thighs in a way that forced her black microskirt almost to her waist, pouring champagne into a glass held in his right hand.

His two bodyguards reacted at once to the woman's entry, recognizing her and her likely business with their master. They'd been waiting one on each side of the door, immediately flanking any newcomer, and reached beneath their suit jackets for weapons. The one on the woman's right produced a nine-millimeter handgun, marking him as the immediate problem; she stepped in towards his left and swept out with her knife. There was a gush of blood and a scream, and his severed thumb struck the carpet a moment faster than the dropped gun. Her foot came up and drove into his belly, kicking him over to crash into the soundproofed wall. There, he slumped to the floor, clutching his maimed hand and choking out moans with what little breath her kick had not driven from his body.

The second bodyguard had drawn a _kaiken_, a tanto dagger with no handguard so the sheath and hilt fit together as one. The weapon had been popular with women of the samurai class in the past, now favored by yakuza for its concealability. He came at the woman in white with a downward-slashing cut. She caught his wrist in her left hand and redirected the force of his swing through a vicious, torquing twist that broke bone and rent the ligaments in his elbow. At the same time, she raised her right foot and delivered a savage heel stamp to the side of his knee that left his leg buckling sideways in a direction that the human leg is not actually supposed to bend.

In less than fifteen seconds, both of Matou's bodyguards were left twitching on the rug.

The whore in the black dress screamed and hurled the champagne bottle at the intruder. More bewildered than anything, she moved her head to the left and let the impromptu missile sail by to shatter against the wall, then when the woman jumped for her with pointed nails like talons hit her on the side of the neck with the edge of her hand and dropped her like she'd been poleaxed. The second call girl just huddled in the corner of the couch, whimpering, as the woman in white pulled Matou up off the couch.

"Your _oyabun_ has a message for you, Matou-san."

"No, please, no..." he babbled.

"Takamura-sama is very disappointed in your gambling habit, a shameful weakness. He is even more deeply disappointed that you have helped yourself to your collection accounts to fund your habit. Sadness consumes him that you have patronized Ayanokoji-_gumi_ establishments with your wagers, in an attempt to conceal the depths of your misdeeds. Those are Takamura-sama's words." She paused, then added in a much less formal voice, "In _my_ words, you little shit, you got caught dipping your hand in the till and using the Takamura-_gumi_'s profits with our rivals, and now you're going to pay, which you already knew or your goons wouldn't have tried to jump me on sight."

"Please, please no, I'll give it back, I'll do anything!" he babbled in terror. Froth flecked his lips as he pleaded, "I've got a wife and two little girls, I—"

She cut off his contemptible whining with a knee to his groin, then dropped him to his floor, whimpering and curled around his pride and joy. She was reaching beneath her coat for her _wakizashi_, to finish the business, when a pulsing rock tune burst from her pocket, and her expression brightened.

"Sorry, I have to take this call; I'll be with you in a bit."

She took her cell phone out of her pocket and answered the ring.

"Hey, Shi-kun!"

"Hi, Tsu-nee!" Ohgami Shizuka's voice came through clearly. Tsukasa grinned, happy to hear from her little sister. "Is it a bad time?"

"Oh, no, I was just finishing up some business." She looked down at the moaning Matou, then rolled him over onto his back with her foot and stepped down onto his throat, exerting just enough pressure to allow for oxygen to breathe but not squeal. "Hey, keep it down," she snapped at him. "This is an important call."

"I'm not going to ask what kind of business. But you're doing okay, right?"

"Actually, I was promoted last month. I work directly for the boss now."

"Neat! Well, okay, kind of creepy, but I'll let Otousan and Okaasan nag you about finding a respectable job."

"So we've established that you're not nagging me about what you just nagged me about?" Tsukasa chuckled. She'd had more than one knock-down, drag-out fight with her parents over her lifestyle, but for some reason it never bugged her when her little sister worried about it.

"Idiot Tsu-nee. Anyway, I called for two reasons. One is to find out if you're coming back for my birthday next month."

"Am I welcome?"

"Otousan promises they won't bring up your job if you don't. And it's my birthday and I want all the people I care about there."

"All right, then, count me in. I can't let my Shi-kun down, right?"

"Darn straight. Oh, and speaking of straight and otherwise—"

"You met a boy?" Tsukasa almost squealed.

"Around here?" her sister snorted. "Not likely. Hey, if you happen to meet any cool badasses, you know, handsome, studly guys with a tough, sassy outside but a heart of gold, could you send one my way?"

Tsukasa glanced around the room at the sprawled forms.

"Sorry, most of the guys I meet at work are really kind of whiners and moaners, always crying over something. Besides, if I met someone cool like you describe, I'd keep him for myself."

"Meanie."

"Have to keep up my rep, right? So what's the romance news, if you don't have a boyfriend?"

"It's Himemiya. Remember how I told you about how she was expecting some chick from her past life to show up?"

"Yeah, that was—oh, you're not _serious_!"

"Pinky swear serious. She'll be at the party so you can meet her. She's nice, but weirdly tough. Alice says she might even be better with a sword than Himemiya, if you can wrap your brain around it. But that's not the real news."

"Oh?"

"Himemiya came out of the closet in a big way that very first day Himeko got here. It was all anyone could talk about for a week or so."

"Including you, I see, since you're talking about it," Tsukasa said smugly.

"Just because you're a professional bad guy does not make it okay to be a wiseass, Tsu-nee."

Tsukasa laughed.

"Sure it does." Matou made a gurgling noise from beneath her boot. "Look, I've got to run; I've got a guy here just dying to talk to me. Thanks for the invite; I'll be sure to come. Tell the old man I said hi and give Okaasan a hug for me, okay?"

"Will do. I love you, Tsu-nee."

"Love you too, kiddo. Bye, now."

"Bye."

Tsukasa gave a happy sigh and dropped the phone back into her pocket. She took her foot off Matou's neck and he began to gasp and cough, sucking in air.

"Thanks for waiting. You know what, I'm in a really good mood right now, and I don't want to do something Shi-kun would be angry at me for, so I'm going to give you a special one-time offer. Bring the _oyabun_ twice what you owe him with the biggest apology you can muster up—I'd suggest you _start_ with fingers coming off—and we'll call it good. Mind you, I think you're not going to be trusted with anything more than a kid's lunch money worth of _gumi_ funds, but hey, you're a liar, a cheat, a gambler, and a thief. Not to mention you've got seriously bad taste in women. Stay at home with your wife and kids."

"_Twice_ what I—"

"If you like, I can kill you now, instead?"

"N-no! I'll-I'll find the money!"

"Good boy." She bent down and patted his cheek. "And by the way, if I do have to come back and talk to you tomorrow...well, do I really have to make the threat?"

Matou shook his head desperately.

"I'm so glad." Tsukasa preferred the ones who had enough imagination to come up with their own fears. They were much easier to intimidate than the sort who was too thick to imagine the consequences. "Bye, now."

She strolled out of the room, fishing out her cigarettes and lighter. The gold lighter was designed like a Chinese puzzle box; she had to manipulate five separate slides, levers, and tabs to get it to fire up. It had been a present from Shizuka, with the obvious subtext that if it was a pain in the butt to light one up every time, maybe she'd smoke less. Tsukasa used it anyway.

"Don't worry," she said with a grin as she passed the bouncer. "Nobody's dead." He actually looked at her in surprise, which...actually made her feel a little smug, honestly.

As she walked out into the cacophony of wild music and swaying bodies it occurred to her that the Takamura-_gumi_ had connections to a number of agencies and companies in the music biz. Concert tickets with backstage passes for one of Shizuka's favorite bands might make for a nice birthday present.

~X X X~

_A/N: Arrow mentioned her older sister Tsu-nee, who'd left home to pursue a career with the yakuza, in Chapter 3 of "The Seven Mysteries." A _gumi_ is a yakuza clan or family. The two specific ones mentioned here are a shout-out to my own previous KnM story, "Sins in the Moonlight." And no, Chikane's mom did not get Tsukasa her job. ^_- By the way, the band's name is definitely a _Valkyrie Profile _shout-out, though indeed Hrist is the only one of the three sisters a real band might name themselves after since her name (in the English version of the game; it's Ahly in Japan) is actually taken from historical sources._

_Incidentally, Tsu-nee's name is Tsu_k_asa rather than Tsu_b_asa because a couple of years back, when I actually thought her character up, I didn't know that "Tsubasa" could be a woman's name too. Your choice, really, if it works better this was, since, well, she's clearly not (ahem) _exactly _the same person..._


	2. I Think Himeko Calls Them Friends

_A/N: Alice tells Himeko about how she met Chikane in Chapter 5 of "The Seven Mysteries," but I'd gotten a couple of questions about how things went between them, so here's the expanded version of the story. Edited 9/14/12 to change "appropriate" to "opposite" in paragraph 4, which is clearly one of those "typed the story from the paper copy while watching anime" mistakes that thankfully, nobody pointed out.  
_

~X X X~

Himemiya Chikane was daydreaming about romance.

This was not an uncommon preoccupation among nine-year-old girls. Society, after all, bombarded them with any number of messages, in movies and books, television and manga, about the importance of Love in a woman's life. The idea of the perfect boyfriend, a prince come to life, was a major hope for the future for most girls.

Or in Chikane's case, the perfect girlfriend.

Most lesbians were not quite so aware of their sexuality at Chikane's age. The assumption made by society was that people were attracted to the opposite sex. For those who didn't fit that neat little mold, it was often a difficult path to self-discovery, realizing that they were uncomfortable within expectations, then trying—somehow—to define their feelings. Chikane _had_, in fact, gone through that struggle herself, only it was two lifetimes ago. It was so much more convenient when she could remember her past lives.

And, of course, remember that sooner or later, Himeko would come back to her, sun to her moon.

It would certainly make the teenaged dating years less drama-filled, having a true love with whom she formed what amounted to an old married couple. That was nice. Being a high-functioning sociopath in a lesbian relationship with a girl beside whom she was resurrected again and again to find and destroy the incarnated spirit of human malice and despair made for a certain amount of drama in most of her lives.

Probably she ought to have been paying more attention in class, but she also remembered sitting through elementary-school math in each of her past lives, and the material didn't change. Chikane liked the stability of numbers, but being "taught" about them was possibly one of the most _boring_ things she could do while waiting for Himeko. Keeping only just enough attention on the class so that she wouldn't be taken off-guard if the teacher called on her, she went back to her daydreams until the lunch bell rang.

The crowd descended almost at once.

"Miya-sama! Miya-sama!" they chorused. "Would you sit with me at lunch?" one would ask. "No, with me!" "She sat with you last week!" The babbling was interminable, the cluster of Chikane's little fan club reminding her of a pack of starving dogs fighting over the scraps that fell from the table.

Most of the time, she worked hard at being the person at the table, the queen dispensing her royal favor. Some days, though, Chikane felt more like the scraps.

Today was one of those days.

She shot a gaze across the room towards Ohgami Shizuka, younger daughter of the priest of Ohgami Shrine. They'd known each other since they were four, and the tomboy was the closest thing to a real friend that Chikane had.

Unfortunately, a friendly rescue was not to be had. Ohgami-kun shook her head regretfully, then shrugged. Obviously she was busy with something else during lunch hour, probably something to do with sports (in which she was excellent) or disciplinary action (which she was often on the receiving end of).

"Miya!"

Multiple lifetimes of practice had engraved in Chikane's soul the combat reflexes to isolate without thinking the sudden patter of footsteps from behind and be aware of the body launching itself at her back. She could have pivoted aside without apparent effort and let the other girl go flying by to crash into Chikane's desk or the crowd of fangirls. The Lunar Priestess's training over those same lifetimes, however, had developed rigid control over those reflexes, and she only sighed as a redheaded girl pounced on her back, throwing her arms around Chikane's shoulders.

The sudden contact made Chikane flinch slightly. She really wasn't fond of being touched. Himeko was the obvious exception to that, and she'd found somewhat to her surprise that her parents' hugs, too, conveyed the elusive sense of being loved and cared for. Skinship between classmates, though, left her cold.

"How's it going?" the burden around her shoulders cried, then thankfully ended the glomp, dropping to her feet.

Alice Ishida was an odd girl. She was, for one thing, a foreigner—a Canadian of Japanese descent whose family had moved to Mahoroba a month ago when her father had found himself the heir to a moderate-sized family business. Chikane's parents thought the show of filial respect spoke well of them—she herself would certainly not have wanted to uproot her entire life and move to another country out of an obligation to people she'd never met. This was especially true given that Mrs. Ishida was a fourth-generation Canadian whose interest in Japan had been no more than casual curiosity, and that they had four children of various ages.

For most of the other girls, Ishida was a bit of a curiosity. And for some reason, she'd decided to clamp on to Chikane. Rather than joining the crowd of worshippers, though, she did it up close and personal, seizing every chance to pounce on her, babble about her life, or anything similar no matter how much princess-like reserve Chikane tried to maintain.

So Chikane guessed she was a curiosity for her as well.

Of course, Chikane's fans had a definitely different opinion of Ishida's behavior. A subtle reserve was what they demanded. Worshipping 'Miya-sama' from afar was to their minds only natural, but to push across that boundary line into direct contact was not acceptable. She was fairly sure that Ishida came in for a certain amount of bullying for that over and above what happened more or less naturally from being foreign.

"Leave Miya-sama alone!" snapped Izumi, the current queen bee among the fangirls.

"Yeah! Don't go jumping on her like that, you disrespectful cow!" That was Kisaragi Otoha, a blonde who seemed to have a little more depth than the rest of the starstruck idiots. Or maybe Chikane just wanted to think that because she reminded her so much of her loyal (though jealous) maid from two lifetimes ago.

"I don't have to do what you say!" Ishida shot back. "Miya hasn't said so!"

"It's Miya-sama, you stupid foreigner!" shouted Mifune Kyoko. "Even if you can't _act_ properly, you can at least do that much."

Chikane could feel her jaw twitch at the brunette's outburst. Ishida was annoying, yes, but what right did these self-appointed protectors have to say so? When had she ever said that they had some kind of right to determine who her friends were?

She _hated_ pretentious, grasping people like that, arrogant in their belief that their one-sided feelings gave them any authority at all. Especially since in past lives that kind of person had tried to take those feelings out on Himeko, jealous of the attention Chikane had given her. Even in their last life when Himeko had been her twin sister, there had been that kind of person trying to drive them apart!

The instinct flared up in her to simply punch Mifune in the face. It was absolutely what she wanted to do, to vent her anger on the stupid little—

She mastered herself quickly, with effort. Letting her temper win would help no one. It wouldn't protect Ishida in any way; it probably wouldn't even teach Mifune anything. And it would put a nasty little crack in the wall she tried to keep up around herself that made sure that her interactions with her classmates were on her terms.

And then she got a better idea.

She turned to Ishida and put a smile on her face. It wasn't a real smile, but it would do, and very few people could tell the difference.

"Come on, Alice," she said. There was more than one gasp from the group at the fact that Chikane had used Ishida's first name, and without any honorific besides. "Let's go get our lunch before the cafeteria runs out of sandwiches." Without bothering to wait for the stunned onlookers to respond, she turned and headed straight for the classroom door. Ishida..._"Alice," now, I suppose..._showed quick mental reflexes by recognizing her cue and pattering along afterwards. Chikane did not slow or look back, but made a beeline for the cafeteria, where she ignored the fact that she had a perfectly good bento box in her bag and stepped up to purchase a sandwich. The throng of students clamoring for food parted naturally for Miya-sama, so she went right to the front.

"Melon bread, please," she asked the seller, then looked back over her shoulder at Alice. "Would that be all right for you?"

Alice nodded eagerly, still looking more than a little confused. "Uh-huh."

"Two, then," Chikane ordered, paid, and accepted the bread. She handed one to Alice, then led the way over to a side table. A few eyes followed them, kids in their grade mostly. If previous lifetimes were any indication, it wouldn't be until junior high that "Miya-sama" was enough of a standout to be a true school idol.

Alice just looked at her for a long minute while Chikane took a dainty bite.

"Why do they call this 'melon bread,' anyway? I mean, it doesn't taste like melon," she finally said, looking curiously at her meal.

"I think it's because the top is patterned like a melon rind," Chikane explained.

"Oh. That actually makes sense."

"You sound surprised."

"Well, so much doesn't!" Alice suddenly burst out.

"You mean, here in Japan?"

"Yes! I just don't get it most of the time!"

"Well, why would you? I'm sure I'd be just as lost in Canada."

"That's kind of hard to believe."

Alice took a big bite of the bread and chewed.

"Why'd you do it?" she finally got around to asking.

Chikane didn't bother asking what "it" was when they both knew perfectly well.

"I'll tell you if you answer me one thing."

"That's not fair," Alice pouted.

"Making a cute face like a puppy doesn't work on me." _At least when it isn't Himeko making it._

"Darn. My dad's a total sucker for it. It drives my brothers crazy. What did you want to know?"

"Why me?"

Alice didn't ask for elaboration anymore than Chikane had. Chikane liked that; it was nice to be able to talk to someone who could keep up.

"Most of these girls are really nasty 'cause I'm a foreigner."

"But why me? You just started calling me 'Miya' and glomping me and chattering away like we were friends. What made you think I would go along with that?"

"I figured that if I was going to make a friend here, you'd be my best chance. The boys and girls barely talk to each other, and most of the girls are all cliquey. And you hate everybody."

Chikane almost dropped her melon bread in surprise.

"_What?_"

"Well, don't you?"

"Why would you think that?"

"You're always smiling and gracious and polite to everyone. You act like you're somebody's mom, sometimes stern, sometimes kind, but never showing your feelings."

"It wouldn't be proper for the heiress of the Himemiya family to make a scene."

"Oh, horse pucky! There's no way anybody's as perfect as you act."

"This is Japan. You're not used to—"

"Nuh-uh!" Alice shook her head firmly. "Just look at Izumi and Mifune and those girls. They get mad all the time. And you're exactly the same to everybody! So...you've got to be lying, right?" She sat back in her chair, a smug grin on her face like she was Encyclopedia Brown and had just caught Bugs Meany out again. _Does anyone still read those books?_ Chikane thought, questioning her own metaphor, then wondered why on earth her brain was wandering that far off-topic.

"So you decided that a kid who lies to everybody and doesn't have friends would be a good choice for a friend?" she asked incredulously.

"Sure! I mean, if you don't like _anybody_, then you don't dislike _me_ specifically for being an outsider, right? It's not like the ones who don't like me 'cause I'm Canadian or talk funny or something!"

That almost made sense. The fact that she could follow Alice's logic made Chikane wonder if this was one of those times where her forty-four years of memories and her biologically childish brain were running smack into each other.

So she gave up and laughed, a playful little giggle that demanded to come out and be heard. Alice's face lit up happily at the sight.

"Yes! You _do _laugh!"

Apparently, she smiled as well, because Chikane found herself grinning, not her usual serene Yamato Nadeshiko princess smile that she used most of the time at school, but a genuine grin.

"I knew this would work," Alice said, clapping. Chikane arched an eyebrow at her.

"I haven't said anything yet. After all, I only went along with you because Mifune-san went off, acting as if she had the right to dictate terms on my behalf."

"So we're going to be friends because Mifune said we couldn't? I'll have to remember that when I want to get you to do something."

"Are you ever serious?"

"Not when I can help it. Serious is no fun. And you've got all the 'no fun' you need already, right? It's like my mom always says, you might not like her, but you'll never find her boring!"

Chikane shook her head. The foreigner reminded her so much of the kind of girl Himeko always seemed to make friends with, like Saotome Makoto or Ohgami Marika. The kind of girl who was so bursting with energy and life that she was an antidote to all the deathly seriousness and bitter angst of being the shrine maidens of the Godless Month, to say nothing of Chikane's rather staggering mishaps on the way to romance.

For the first time, Chikane felt like she could understand the attraction of having a person like that around.

"Hey, what's going on? You're making this weird dreamy face, like Dad gets when he drinks too much."

"I was just thinking how someone I know would like you very much."

"They've got good taste!" Alike joked. "Who is it?"

"Someone very special to me. Maybe some day I'll tell you about her."

"Some day? But I want to know now!"

"I know. But like you said, I'm no fun."

Alice facepalmed, groaning, which made Chikane giggle again.

She had an intuition, somehow, that getting to a "some day" where she felt comfortable enough to give Alice at least the parts of the story she had told her parents wouldn't take that long at all.


End file.
